Of Magic and Crowns
by AryaTindomiel
Summary: With the mysterious murder of King Uther Pendragon of Camelot, the Le Fays Morgana and Estella are called upon by Queen Ygraine to investigate. What lies ahead for them and their companions remains to be seen and known. *Collaboration Fic*
1. Chapter 1

**Authors' Note: For anyone who used to be active on FanForum, this was a community story that some ArMor fans started and since the Merlin fandom kind of died out it was requested that the story now be moved here. Even though I am the one posting it, this is still a community story so anyone who want to add on to the story is free to, there is no set plot or anything like that, we (malaguetta, Azar443, and myself) just wrote as we went along, but all backgrounds and such are based on my _Legend of Albion Saga_. Each chapter was written by one of the three above authors and each new chapter will be written by only one writer at a time. Morgana Lannister came up with the title but she and I are unsure about it, if someone can come up with an alternate title feel free, but if the majority likes the current one it's going to stay. Thank you Morgana Lannister for the story cover :)!**

 **Disclaimer: We don't own Merlin or any external references relating to the Arthurian Legends or otherwise.**

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Morgana creeps quietly through the forest. She knows that she shouldn't be out (her mother Vivienne, her aunt Valeria, even her sister Morgause cautioned her against this), but her curiosity always get the better of her. Besides, there are foreign men traveling through their lands. Magic may be on their side, but the Le Fays and the Druids need to be cautious, all those who are not them are enemies, no matter how friendly or nonthreatening they seem.

"You know you shouldn't be out." Morgana whirls around at the voice. Casually leaning against a tree is her dearest cousin Estella.

"Neither should you." the witch retorts.

The older woman shrugs. "Well, I'm curious, too. So..." Estella inclines her head towards the campsite of the foreigners and the both of them carefully walk towards their destination.

Hiding behind a thick oak tree, the cousins peer at the men. They are all dressed in armor and a red cloak with the insignia of the Pendragon crest embroidered on it.

The man with the golden hair and sky blue eyes stands out to Morgana for reasons unknown to her. Estella has the same feeling about the man to the golden one's right, whose hair is dark brown and eyes are deep hazel.

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 **Thanks for reading :).**

 **For anyone who is still waiting on _Legend of Albion_ , I actually am working on it, but I'm going to need some help since RL is very demanding. I already have one co-writer (Thank you, thank you Morgana Lannister!) but the more the merrier and having more co-writers may perhaps get the story done faster. Now when chapter 18 will be posted, I'm not sure. I can tell you that it is ready, but I don't want to post it until I have a few chapters after it completely done so that I can make updates more frequent. So anyone interested in co-writing, send me a message :).**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: We don't own Merlin or any external references relating to the Arthurian Legends or otherwise.**

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Estella, though very much captivated by the man who smiles easily with the reins of his horses held loosely in his hand, realizes that she and Morgana are in danger of being discovered. She tugs her dark-haired companion's arm urgently and hisses into her ear, "Morgana. I realize that you must be drowning in that man's blue eyes but we must leave. Now."

Morgana reluctantly tears her gaze from the golden haired man and directs a scowl towards her cousin, which is easily deflected by a cheerful grin. "I was not captivated by that man cousin, but you are right. Let us leave before mother sees fit to give us another earful in front of the others."

Carefully, the two women stand gracefully from their crouch and melt into the shadows of the forests, hidden once more from men who knew nothing of the magic running freely through the women's blood. It is a short journey back to their own camp, and soon Morgana and Estella find themselves amidst the throng of milling people getting ready for their usual meal together.

"Daughter, Estella." Morgana and Estella turn to find an elegant woman dressed in midnight blue standing before them with an exasperated expression colouring her face, though the younger women are relieved to see a hint of affection and amusement in her eyes as well. Vivienne, Morgana's mother. "Did you have a nice walk outside the camp, my dears?"

Morgana bites her lip; she could never really lie to her mother. But before she can conjure up a believable excuse, Valeria, twin sister to Vivienne and mother to Estella now stands before them as well, and next to her is a young man who looks so out of place Morgana cannot help but feel a stab of pity for the bewildered young man. She throws a small smile at him and is immediately responded by a lopsided smile that makes the boy even younger than he looks.

Valeria smiles to her daughter and niece before pushing the young man forward, "This is Merlin or as we call him, Emrys." The girls' eyes fly wide open as they stare at the furiously blushing young man, stunned to know that this unassuming Merlin was in fact, prophesied to be the greatest warlock of all. Valeria and Vivienne exchanged identical smiles of satisfaction and smugness before turning to leave their daughters to acquaint themselves with the newcomer. Valeria's voice floats back to Morgana and Estella, "Do be nice to him love."

Estella stares back at the lanky Merlin with incredulity and all the dark haired boy could do was wave abashedly and grin yet another crooked grin as he tugged at the red neckerchief hanging about his neck. "Hi, I'm Merlin."

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	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: We don't own Merlin or any external references relating to the Arthurian Legends or otherwise.**

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The older cousin lifts a skeptical brow. "You are the one who is Emrys?" Morgana is quick to give her cousin a disapproving look as Merlin, expressionless, simply blinks. Glancing back at her, "What? You know that I'm not a particularly nice person."

Morgana sighs. "Forgive her, you simply must become accustomed to her nature." The raven-haired woman smiles, "I'm Morgana and this is my cousin Estella."

Merlin returns the smile. "It's nice meeting you both."

"Where are you from?" Estella abruptly asks him. She sounds patronizing, but in truth, she doesn't mean to.

The young boy's face falls. "Ealdor, a village on the borders of Essetir." The two young women are aware that a group of bandits was terrorizing the village and so Vivienne and Valeria had gone to try and help the peasants. Now, they've brought a new member of the magical community to join them.

"Did something happen?"Morgana asks with concern.

"The bandits razed my village to the ground. Miraculously, I was the only the survivor." Merlin tells them.

Morgana feels even more pity now. "I'm sorry." Merlin nods.

"Well..." Estella starts, "Now is the time to start over then." She starts walking toward a tent. "Come, you two, I'm famished."

Morgana chuckles as she tugs Merlin's arm and to follow her cousin. A loud rustle amongst the trees makes her stop, however. She calls to Estella with her mind, but the older woman is already making her way back to Merlin and Morgana.

The two women stand in front of Merlin while brandishing daggers. The young man feels rather uncomfortable with women protecting, but figures that it is better than getting killed.

The rustling continues and the trio await whatever possible danger is coming their way.

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	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: We don't own Merlin or any external references relating to the Arthurian Legends or otherwise.**

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Estella narrows her eyes as a young girl with wildly flying brown hair and terrified chocolate orbs darts out from among the shadows of the trees. She will not lower her guard; not just yet.

Estella steps closer towards the girl, radiating cold power and suspicion. The girl flinches as she feels the waves of power Estella is giving off, and the raven haired woman smiles; the girl is a Druid.

Morgana, taking pity on the scared girl perhaps a year or two younger than herself, asks her kindly, "Who are you and what are you doing here? Is there someone after you?" The girl turns gratefully towards the kinder of the two women, eyes flicking curiously towards a blushing Merlin who realizes just how pretty the newcomer is. She bows slightly, aware that Morgana and Estella are powerful sorceresses, and deserve the respect they are due.

"Forgive me my Ladies. My name is Freya and I come here seeking refuge." Here, Freya draws a shaken breath as she stares back from where she came with a terrified gleam in her eyes. "Please, I beg of you. I am running from the Knights of Camelot for a crime I did not commit. Please, you must not let them find me!"

Estella is unwilling to lay down her dagger; she fears that this Freya might not be who she claims to be. But Morgana distresses to see her so frightened and sheaths her own dagger as she extends her hand out for Freya to take. "Of course. You will be safe here Freya. Let me take you to meet our leaders and I shall see to it that you will have clean clothes and a warm meal."

Freya takes her hand with a tired smile, "Thank you my Lady. What is your name?" Morgana throws her a carefree smile even as she leads Freya deeper within the camps. "I am Morgana, and she is my cousin Estella." She gestures to the dark haired man, beckoning for him and her cousin to join them once more. "Merlin is new here as well, perhaps the both of you will get along well."

Merlin waves shyly at Freya and Estella chuckles as she pushes Merlin forward gently, leaning in to whisper into his ears that are now burning bright red, "There will be time for flirting later Merlin. But she is such an attractive girl; I would advise you to make your move soon." Winking, she glides elegantly forward to where Morgana is telling Freya of their camp.

Soon, the quartet reaches the clearing where nearly everyone is already gathered for the meal. Morgana grins with pride as she sees her people laugh with joy and pluck at their musical instruments lazily as they await the convening of the entire camp. She smiles once more to Freya and Merlin, and with a grand sweep of her hand, she announces grandly, as though declaring the arrival of some esteemed guest. "Welcome, to the Druid camp. Welcome home."

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	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: We don't own Merlin or any external references relating to the Arthurian Legends or otherwise.**

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Merlin feels a small hand grasp his. Freya says, it's barely more than a breath, "I haven't had a home in so long…"

He tries to smile to reassure her but has to blink back tears. Until so recently he'd had a home, a mother, and friends, people that he'd known all of his life Merlin squeezes her hand and his rewarded by a shy smile as Freya quickly casts her gaze down.

A striking woman walks up to them and takes Freya off to get warm, fresh clothes. Merlin is intrigued and made uneasy by her. The woman looks young, but there is something which suggests great age. Her eyes are the darkest eyes Merlin has ever seen, dark as mountain tarn, dark as the space between the stars, black eyes. That seems strange in contrast to her intricately braided silvery, blond hair. Her hair is the palest gold Merlin has ever seen. She moves with a preternatural grace, her head tilts on a long, slender neck, her long, elegant hands gesture with artful subtlety. There is a tattoo of swan on one of her arms. She regards Merlin and a tiny frown mars her features a fraction of a second.

She has brushed her mind across Merlin's and felt - power - extraordinary power. Well, one would expect that of the foretold one, Emrys. There is also the merest hint of, what exactly? Potential arrogance, a certainty that magic serves him, that he doesn't serve magic, an affront to the Triple Goddess, the beginnings madness, mad Merlin who will scorn what will not serve his destiny. No, not madness, but something wrong, wrong with Emrys, this bright, hopeful promise of light.

Merlin turns to Estella and asks, "Who is she?"

"She calls herself Camille, like you she came to us. She says she's the sister of a Saxon king. Have you heard of the Saxons, Merlin?"

"Not in my lands. It was no Saxons who raided and destroyed my village. But I've heard they do things like that. She's one of them."

Estella purses her lips. "No one's really sure exactly about Camille. She says she was fathered by a Saxon king and a slave woman. So, she's no Saxon princess. She has great knowledge of certain things, like the movements of the stars, and plants, many things of the world around us; although she, herself, always seems to be aloof from the world, or at least, the everyday world."

Morgana's light pretty voice interrupts her cousin, "Enough prattle about Camille. She is who is she is. She has been with us for several years, and is one of us. Enough, of this, Merlin looks famished and there is much good food and entertainment to be had."

Freya returns to Merlin and the two sorceresses. The young man's thoughts are focused entirely on the pretty, young Druid girl. Estella whispers in Morgana's ear, "The young magus is overcome by a very ancient, and quite everyday, yet very powerful magic."

Morgana smiles and excuses herself. She goes to find Camille.

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	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: We don't own Merlin or any external references relating to the Arthurian Legends or otherwise.**

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Morgana sighs as the wind starts to pick up, causing her long raven curls and her royal blue dress to flutter in the breeze. She had missed the Isle of the Blessed very much while she and her family were visiting the Druids, but then again what magical person wouldn't?

The Isle with its luscious forests, calming waters, invigorating gardens, and glittering halls - the Avalon of the living, the safe haven for those who possess magic, the home of the Nine High Priestesses of the Old Religion and of course the Le Fays.

The Le Fays had also brought Merlin and Freya to the Isle. Every person with magic should see the Isle at least once in their life.

"Morgana," the young woman turns around at the sound of her name. Standing behind her on the balcony is her dearest cousin. Tall, slim, and beautiful in her simple emerald robe. But she is not alone, the older woman is flanked by Freya and another Druid girl, Sefa. "Our mothers call us to the Council Chambers." Morgana nods and starts to walk with her cousin and the two other girls.

"What is this about?" The younger woman asks.

Estella takes a moment to answer. "I have an idea, but you know I hate being wrong, so I won't say."

Morgana rolls her eyes. "Oh, of course, dear, 'perfect' Estella Le Fay can never be wrong."

Her cousin scoffs. "Really now, cousin, you know I'm not the 'perfect' one. That title belongs to Morgause."

Indeed it does. The eldest of the three Le Fay daughters - Morgause, the only one of three who could wield and use her magic with ease and grace and the result of such little effort is always grand and powerful. Estella struggles with reigning in her powers, as strong as Morgause, if not a bit more, but not as controlled. Morgana is the worst. Her magic is as tumultuous as Estella's mood and mind, constantly shifting like the tides during a rough storm. Her cousin always says that it is because she is meant to be this way - the strongest of them all, able to rival Emrys himself, but the young woman always took this as a jest. Merlin, even in the infancy of his training, holds his magic in the palm of his hand, precise and easily handled.

Estella interrupts her contemplation. "Any more dreams, lately?"

And the dreams of the future, as real and vivid as the things she sees in her waking hours are another burden Morgana has to bear. This is uniquely Morgana's gift. Vivienne only sees blurred visions on occasion, Morgause used crystals, Nimueh and Valeria, the mirror of the Isle, and Estella, though her visions are as clear, they are only things that _will_ come to pass, anything prophetic and destined and they are occasional.

Morgana nods slowly, "A few..." she answers hesitantly, not wanting for Freya and Sefa to hear. It's not that she doesn't trust them, she simply wants what she's Seen kept to herself.

Her elder cousin recognizes. Morgana then hears a voice in her mind, _"Dreaming of the blue-eyed man again, are we?"_

The younger woman tries to keep from blushing, _"Please don't."_

 _"I'm not trying to poke fun, this has to mean something-"_

 _"No, they are just foolish dreams."_ She insists.

 _"I wouldn't be so sure."_ The other woman counters.

Morgana raises an elegant eyebrow, _"And why is that?"_

 _"Because, I've seen him too."_ Her cousin answers.

 _"As well as the hazel-eyed one?"_ Morgana receives an answer of silence and slight color rising in Estella's cheeks.

"We're here," she says aloud.

Inside the chambers is Vivienne, Valeria, Nimueh, Morgause, Merlin, and the other three High Priestesses.

"Good, you're here," Vivienne says without preamble.

"Is something wrong?" Morgana asks her aunt, while Estella spies the letter sitting on the table and the familiar crest on it.

"Depends on your definition of wrong," Valeria replies and then pauses.

"Well? What is it?" Morgana inquires.

Nimueh answers, for it is only she and the Le Fay mothers who know what the letter says. "It seems that with the murder of Uther Pendragon by what is believed to be the work of dark sorcery, Queen Ygraine calls upon us to help with the investigation."

"Why us?" Morgause then questions with a hint of anger, she bears no love or concern for Camelot.

"Because despite the current state of things, Ygraine, Vivienne, Valeria, and myself share a past," Nimueh starts. "We also owe her our lives, for without her, Uther would have persecuted us all years ago."

Vivienne then speaks, "We are sending the two of you, Morgana and Estella and a company of selective sorcerers as well as guards to Camelot."

"What?!" the two women ask at the same time.

"Why us? And what about Morgause?" Estella demands.

Valeria answers. "Morgause will be in Essetir for one thing and another, you know she would not stand a minute within Camelot without lashing out at someone." The woman turns an amused and affectionate glance at her niece, who simply shrugs with a slight smile on her lips. "And you Estella have ties to Camelot and through you so does Morgana." (She won't speak of prophecies at this moment). "Your father is Tristan, Ygraine's brother and thus her son is your cousin."

The two women are still ready to protest, Morgause as well, for she will not stand to see her young sister and cousin within the walls of a land she considers their enemy.

"There is no room for negotiations. Our decision is made. Prepare for the journey, you leave in a fortnight." Nimueh informs them and no more is said as everyone is dismissed.

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	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: We don't own Merlin or any external references relating to the Arthurian Legends or otherwise.**

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The scent of apples from the orchards of the Isle of the Blessed and the pots of herbs on Morgana's balcony scents her room. She loves the Isle. She also loves the time before she drifts off to sleep, especially in when she's on the Isle. She feels safe here; it is a place of power, and nurturing to Morgana.

She remembers when she first came to the Isle as a child. She was angry and grieving for her father Gorlois. At first, she was resentful toward her mother, who had only visited Tintagel intermittently during Morgana's childhood. It was her father who had doted on her, protected her, and been the center of her world. She cried bitterly at his loss. She'd missed the sea. Tintagel stood on a promontory of rock high above the sea. She missed the changing sounds of its waves, the clean, salty smell of it, the cries of the seabirds - and the light. The glorious light from the meeting of sun, clouds, and the vastness of the water; she still dreams of the sea sometimes.

But sometimes . . . she dreams of the future, and it frightens her. Morgana feels the magic growing within her and it the sheer power of it terrified her.

Tomorrow she will leave the safety of the Isle of the Blessed to travel to Camelot, the domain of the man who'd been her father's lord, Uther Pendragon. Now he was dead as well. Gorlois had died in Uther's service. There were whispers it was because Uther Pendragon had failed to send reinforcements. Gorlois and his men had bought the Pendragon time - but at such a cost.

Enough of these thoughts rushing about in her mind, Morgana must get to sleep.

She's dreaming, she is in a place, she knew it was a real place, where she's never been. It's a vast cavern, redolent with the stench sulfur, and with the presence of magic, ancient, vastly powerful, almost elemental magic. She also knows that _whatever_ possessed such magic does not wish her well.

A massive iron chain dropped from above and a dragon climbs down. Its eyes are burning gold, sooty scales with red-gold touches gleam dimly. Morgana had heard that all the dragons had been destroyed; yet, this one had survives.

The dragon preen on a rock and bares its fangs in a grotesque approximation of smile. "Well, well, little witch, you begin your journey to Camelot. It is one of several possible futures. It would be better for you if your life's path does not bring you there. You may impede my plans."

"What plans, Kilgharrah?" Morgana has no idea of how she knows the creature's name, it has simply sprung from her mouth.

The Great Dragon pulls back his head in surprise. "How can you know my name? You do not have the power on your own for that. Ah, I see, Arianrhod, an aspect of your goddess. She has a fondness for you. More the pity, girl, those who catch the fancy of the gods rarely lead happy, and, very often, not long lives."

"You gloat at me?" Morgana marvels, "You the great Kilgharrah, who allowed Uther Pendragon to trap you, and place a chain of cold iron upon you. Due to the ancient magic to which you belong, you cannot break the chain yourself, you must find someone to remove it. Until then you languish under Camelot. Oh, yes, I know where I am."

Kilgharrah makes a wheezing chortle, which rises to an echoing roar, the laughter of a dragon. Morgana realizes he's quite mad, mad with grief and hatred, and most of all, the need for revenge.

"You are safe in your bed on the Isle of the Blessed, Morgana. _I am in your dream, little witch._ I warn you, stay on the Isle of the Blessed where you will one day be the chief priestess, the Lady of the Isle. There is nothing for you in Camelot. The Pendragons only mean tragedy for those of your blood."

"Uther Pendragon was no friend to magic but he didn't touch the Le Fays."

"Stupid girl, you are the get of Gorlois of Cornwall. There is much of him in you, as much as there is of Vivienne. Gorlois was Uther's right hand, a gifted commander, a great strategist - and Uther left him to die because it was expedient. Ah, well, it's only politics, and Gorlois was only a soldier, while Uther Pendragon was a politician, as well as tactician. Stay out of my way. Do not meddle in the affairs of Camelot. I have plans to destroy the House of Pendragon and I will not be thwarted. So, be a good little witch and play with the priestesses and the Druids, learn the art of healing, and how to control the Sight that grows within you."

Kilgharrah spits a column of flame at Morgana.

She awakes screaming, yet no sound comes. She gasps as she sits up tangled in the bed linens.

Morgana knows she has an enemy waiting for her in Camelot.

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	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: We don't own Merlin or any external references relating to the Arthurian Legends or otherwise.**

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The retinue from the Isle makes their way through the corridors of the castle of Camelot.

Morgana had been silent and distant throughout most of the journey. Her sister, Morgause questioned her about it, but Morgana brushed away her concerns. Estella did not try to say anything about it, suspecting what her cousin is hiding.

When they reached the borders of Camelot, Morgause and her company parted from Estella and Morgana's. The golden-haired Priestess bid her younger family members well-wishes and precautions as she turned toward Essetir.

Freya and Merlin had said their farewells to Sefa, who had become a close friend of theirs and was charged with accompanying Morgause while they Morgana and Estella.

Their arrival in the citadel was not very exciting. The peasants looked at them as if they were enemies coming to destroy them all. Entering the main square was even more uncomfortable for Freya, she feared being recognized by the Camelot guards, but they paid her no mind as Merlin helped her dismount and the Le Fays jumped gracefully from their horses, their guards coming to their sides.

Now, they are entering the Throne Room with the Le Fays leading them, Merlin, Freya, and the other sorcerers behind them, and the guards surrounding them. They stop a few feet from the throne. The courtiers and knights in the room are all whispering about them.

The newly crowned King Arthur steps down and approaches their party. The golden-haired man takes a deep breath, but is interrupted before he can welcome them.

"So, you're my father's nephew?" Estella asks abruptly as she steps forward.

Arthur is taken aback for a moment, he would consider her rude if not for the stiffness in her shoulders that subtly show her unease. When he senses his knights laughing at him he answers, "Yes, I am. I suppose then that you are Lady Estella."

She looks at him with a blank expression, "Indeed," the gray-eyed woman pulls Morgana to her side, "And this is my _cousin_ Lady Morgana." She unintentionally puts emphasis on the word, making Arthur think that she doesn't accept him, even though by blood, he has that title, as well.

When Arthur looks to the other woman, his breath is taken away. When the party entered the room, he was focused on looking at Estella, it seemed that she was the leader and so the woman beside her was secondary. But now, seeing her close up, he is tongue tied. Lady Morgana stands as tall and beautiful as their mutual cousin, but something about her draws him closer to her. Her enchanting sea green eyes meet his sky blue. She curtsies stiffly and yet gracefully, "Your Highness."

He is still at a loss for words, until Gwaine punches him in the shoulder. After a quick glare toward his best knight, he clears throat. "Camelot welcomes you both very graciously, my Ladies. My mother regrets that she could not be here, she is quite ill, but on her behalf, I thank you for accepting our invitation and coming to our aid."

"Lady Ygraine stayed Uther's hand from attacking us and so we are indebted to her." Morgana says.

"And" Estella adds, "We are _family_." Arthur's almost sure that she is only saying that because she must, but he doesn't mention that.

"Indeed," he gestures for servants to lead them to their guest chambers, "I hope you have a comfortable stay here. My mother and I shall call the both of forth to discuss our matters later tonight."

When the guests exit as well as the courtiers, Arthur nearly collapses on the dais.

Gwaine is laughing at him again. "Nice job there, Arthur. Nearly drown in her sea green eyes?"

Arthur groans, "Shut up, Gwaine."

"No, really, I would have been much worse, but all my attention was focused on the other one."

The young king turns to look at the knight. "You're not serious, are you? You saw Estella, heard what she said."

"What about it?"

"She's obviously not pleased to be here." Arthur answers.

Gwaine shrugs, "Maybe I can make her pleased."

The golden-haired man recoils. "Okay, stop. I do _not_ want to be thinking about you and Estella."

His friend grins. "Right, you'd rather think about you and Morgana."

Arthur quickly gets up from the dais. "No, I would rather think about my kingdom." He pauses. "Besides, you know I'm betrothed."

The dark-haired man rises, as well. "Betrothed is not married Arthur. Besides, those things never last if they're for politics and we all know that is what your marriage to Princess Guinevere will be, _if_ it happens anyway."

"Why do you keep saying ' _if_?' The marriage is going to happen once this investigation is solved. You know the engagement has been established for quite some time now."

"All the more reason to break it, then." Gwaine starts to leave the Throne Room.

"You didn't answer the question," Arthur points out.

"You know there are always last minute changes. Your own mother didn't marry the first man she was promised to and it was only your father who wanted this union, so..."

Gwaine doesn't finish his statement as he leaves Arthur alone with his own thoughts.

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	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: We don't own Merlin or any external references relating to the Arthurian Legends or otherwise.**

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The branches of a flowering rowan etched against the sky outside Ygraine's window. Rowan, the witches' tree, it seemed appropriate to reflect upon that now that the two young witches, Morgana and Estella are in Camelot at Ygraine's invitation. Perhaps she should refrain from thinking of them as witches; they are, in fact, Priestesses, among the elect of the Isle of the Blessed.

She sits back against the pillows, sipping the red wine she deemed appropriate for the slight fever she still has. Ygraine has had enough of Gaius', the royal physician's, concoctions. Truth be told, she doesn't completely trust the man. The young Priestesses must know of healing, perhaps she should consult them. The elder, Estella, is her own niece, heiress to Ygraine's ancestral home. The younger girl, Morgana… she's the daughter of Gorlois, the man to whom Ygraine was once betrothed.

Arthur is trying to work out an alliance with Cornwall. There is still much enmity in the heart of Cador of Cornwall, the son of Gorlois and Morgana's half-brother. He still holds Uther, and by extension, Camelot responsible for the death of his father. Ygraine wonders how close the siblings may be, or if Morgana had put all of her childhood behind her when she left for the Isle of the Blessed.

Ah, but still, how Arthur could use an alliance with Cador and his Cornish knights. That noted the young Duke of Cornwall has his own problem, namely one Mark, one of his older kinsman who styles himself King of Cornwall. That is a joke. He's an old pirate holed up in a makeshift fortress on the coast. Cador has said that Mark was useful to have around to fight the Saxon raiders. It seems the young duke wanted to appear a pragmatist. Still, Ygraine wonders how much Cador rankles at the older man's presumption.

She remembers the Cornwall children from her few visits to Tintagel in Uther's company. Impregnable, sea-girt Tintagel, impervious to all but subterfuge, it seemed such a forbidding place for children. Cador was elder and worshiped Uther Pendragon, the warrior king. He was quick, lively little boy, dark featured, but with eyes so pale blue they seemed colorless. As for Morgana, if she fulfilled her childhood prettiness she should be a rare beauty, indeed. It's said she looks a great deal like Estella. Ygraine has seen her own niece more recently and knows her to be a remarkably beautiful young woman.

From what she remembers of Morgana, the little girl was self-possessed and other-worldly. She was named for a sea sprite, a _morgen_. Vivienne had chosen her daughter's name, and her daughter's destiny as a priestess. Ygraine remembers Uther lifting the child Morgana and spinning her around. The girl's laughter and Uther kissing her gently on her forehead. Later, he'd said to Ygraine, "A delightful and pretty child. Let's hope her beauty is all she inherited from her witch of a mother." There had always been _something_ contentious between Uther and Vivienne.

Ygraine throws an embroidered wrap around her slender body, shaking her golden hair loose down her back. Her delicate features are marred by the too hectic smudges of color on her cheeks. The room feels too close, perhaps she is still feverish, maybe it's the pear wood fire, the scent is lovely, though. The air is redolent of the ghosts of the fruit the tree once bore.

She walks to the window to watch the scene between a young Lady and a knight of Camelot. Of course, the knight is Gwaine. As for the girl, why is it Estella? It seems to be, perhaps it's Morgana. No, Ygraine knows Estella's gestures and mannerisms. It is her strong and determined niece.

 **...**

Estella regards the young man who intrudes upon her contemplation in this quiet corner of the garden. It's just as well; she was getting a bit bored. It is the one called Gwaine. He seems full of himself; although, from what she has overheard about him, he is an expert knight. He also has quite the reputation with women. He's handsome enough and there is an alert intelligence in his deep hazel eyes.

She thinks to let things begin by the Lady making the first move. "Sir Gwaine? Am I correct? To what do I owe the pleasure of your company on this fine day?"

"Lady Estella, you know full well that you have cast your spell upon me."

"Do you mock abilities, Sir?" she smiles. "You would do well to remember that I am accounted a woman of power. You would do well to not discount my abilities."

Gwaine laughs and tosses his head. "I never discount a Lady's abilities, of which, I'm sure, you have many, and not just in the ways of magic."

"Oh, by all means, flatter me, Sir Gwaine. Do you wield silvery words as adroitly as you wield your weapons?"

"My Lady Estella, you know full well the effect of your eyes, gray as the sea in winter, your hair, dark as wood smoke, and your lithe and subtle form as you move with a grace it would take ten thousand years to learn. Except no one lives that long, it is a grace that must be inborn… '

"Enough, enough," Estella laughs. "It is just as well you are a knight, you make a wretched bard. Yet after being tortured by your poor attempts at compliments, I still would like to know if you are intent upon asking me to the dinner my cousin Arthur is holding in greeting for Morgana and myself?"

"Is my Lady requesting to escort me to such a splendid event?" Gwaine smiles. "I'll think upon the request and let you know." He bows elaborately and takes his leave.

 **...**

Ygraine regards the two young people in a secluded garden and remembers her youth. She'd been promised to Gorlois, who was widowed with a two-year-old son. He was a good man. Ah, but then, she'd met Uther Pendragon, the brash, young man who'd just won the throne of Camelot. She still remembers kissing Uther under an apple tree, the spring breeze blowing loose petals to drift about them, catching in her hair and in his chain mail.

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	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: We don't own Merlin or any external references relating to the Arthurian Legends or otherwise.**

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Estella smirks. The nerve of the man to turn the tables on her. Scoffing, she gracefully makes the impression that she is following him into the castle.

Gwaine catches on to her shadowing him and he grins with satisfaction. However, when he turns around to confront the Lady, she is gone.

Confused, he traces back his footsteps to a corridor a few paces back. The knight sees the beautiful cousin of his king as she quickly slips into a room without another glance at him.

 _"Ah, so she wants to be chased, does she?"_ Gwaine certainly does enjoy the chase and he is very much inclined to pursue this woman.

 **...**

Morgana looks up as the door to the room opened. Her fair cousin enters their chambers, wearing a simple royal blue dress made of thin velvet. Estella is strange in that way, despite any temperature, she can wear warm material without feeling hot and suffocated. The younger woman also sees a slight spark of mirth in her cousin's gray eyes.

"You look pleased," Morgana comments. Estella ignores the remark, mutters a greeting, and pours herself some wine. "Well, you're avoiding the subject," Morgana drawls, "That can only mean that the happiness in your eyes is due to Sir Gwaine."

The older woman chocks on her wine. After she composes herself, she turns to face her cousin. "Morgana-"

"So, I was right," she teases, "I knew you wouldn't be able to stay away from. He is very handsome, indeed."

Estella scoffs, "One, he was the one who approached me first and two, he is handsome enough but not the most tempting thing in the world."

The older woman receives a dry look. "You can admit you like him since it is obvious he likes you."

"I did actually by simply clarifying instead of denying anything." Estella then changes the subject. "Where are Freya and Merlin? Canoodling in a corner?"

A rather loud feminine squeak is heard from the adjourning room. The cousins go to investigate, only to find Merlin and Freya, literally in a corner and blushing. Estella stifles a snicker. "Well, it seems I was right." The two blush even more. "A word of advice, do this in your own chambers it keeps the blush down." The pair are literally speechless as they slowly inch apart and follow the Le Fays back to the other chamber.

"So, back to you and Gwaine-"

Estella interrupts, "No, Morgana, we are done with that. Let us speak of this investigation on King Uther's death."

The younger Le Fay sneers slightly, _"We will go back to that."_ Out loud she says, "Well, what do you think? Do you think Ygraine's suspicions are correct?"

Shrugging, "My aunt may not have magic, but she is an intelligent and perceptive woman. There has to be a reason for her to believe that her husband was murdered."

The first night after they arrived in Camelot, the Le Fays met with Arthur and learned the details of the late king's death. It all sounded quite ordinary on the surface, but Ygraine's suspicions still obscured everything.

"So, what do we do?" Morgana asks.

"Sit back and watch. At the feast tonight, observe all the people in attendance. The king's death was barely two months ago, so if anyone is particularly joyous that should be taken into account." Estella turns to Freya and Merlin, "The two of you will probably be able to undertake this task the best, since I will be getting information from my aunt and Arthur will probably be keeping Morgana from observing."

Before the younger woman can retort, there is a knock at the door. A young woman with fair hair and olive-green eyes enters. "My Ladies," she addresses while curtsying. It is Hefina, the maid charged with looking after the Le Fays during their stay. While Merlin and Freya takes care of keeping the chambers in check (so as not to let anyone accidentally stumbling on some magic the Le Fays have with them) it is Hefina who does most of the chores.

"Yes, Hefina, what is it?"

The maidservant nods to Morgana, "I have a message from Sir Gwaine for Lady Estella." Morgana smirks and looks to her cousin. "Sir Gwaine would like to inform you of his answer to your invitation-"

"Oh, please he really must learn to distinguish a question from a request. Tell him I care not for his supposed answer or for his company." Estella lashes out rather harshly.

Morgana sighs, her cousin's moods are shifting again. It always happens when she is uneasy. "Our sincere apologies, Lady Estella is not feeling very well." She receives a scowl from her cousin, so she relents, "But inform Sir Gwaine in the most kindest of ways that my cousin's words."

Hefina curtsies, but before leaving, she is given a vial of some liquid. "Give this to Lady Ygraine, it will remedy her fever." And with that the servant leaves. Estella then turns to the Druid girl, "Freya, if you could fetch Morgana's purple and blue gown and my blue and green gown, I think it's time to start getting ready."

Freya nods and goes to retrieve the garments. While Merlin leaves the room for the women's privacy.

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	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: We don't own Merlin or any external references relating to the Arthurian Legends or otherwise.**

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On the surface it seemed the king had died naturally. He had retired to his chambers and been found dead the next morning. Uther Pendragon seemed to have been asleep and couldn't be roused. Merlin recounts the bits of information he's overhead from nobles, servants, and citizens of Camelot. Yes, there are dark murmurings of magic being the cause of the king's demise. More speculation involves poison as the reason for his death. Uther Pendragon was certainly a man who inspired strong emotions. He was despised by some, admired by many more, but he did not seem to be a monarch who inspired the love of his subjects. Most of them found him just, in his way, but stern.

In the short time he's been in Camelot, Merlin hasn't been able to learn much. He'd learned from Alan, who is servant to Sir Bedivere, that Cador of Cornwall had come to pay his respects at Uther's death. Mostly though, people murmur that he just wanted to make sure Uther Pendragon was dead. There have been chilly relations between Camelot and, its one time ally, Cornwall since the death of Gorlois, Cador's father. The young man seems to still blame Uther for causing Gorlois's death by not sending reinforcements.

Merlin remembers Alan recounting of Cador's stirring speech, seemingly to flatter Uther's memory, but instead, subtly undercutting the king's character at every chance. The Queen looked pale as wax and it seemed she would melt in upon herself just like wax. She clutched at her son's arm. As for the new king, Arthur, it was all he could do to keep himself in check. He bore the effrontery well, despite the fact the tension of his clenched jaw was evident for everyone to see. Alan did say that you had to give Cador his due. You could see how men would follow him. What ally he would make for Camelot.

It's a wonderment to Merlin if Sir Bedivere really approves of such a loquacious and open servant as Alan. It seems to Merlin that a knight really might prefer a more circumspect servant. The man was a bigger font of gossip than most women. It seems that Duke Cador had come to Camelot with a small retinue of knights. Folk did wonder about his leaving Cornwall with his slippery, old kinsman Mark, who styled himself king, behind. Maybe Cador trusted his lady wife to keep things tidy. Talk was that she was a witch, a sea witch, if you please. A sea witch, perfect for Cornwall, Alan supposed. Well, Alan prattled on, that the Cornish dukes had a taste for witchy women; they liked their women to have the "Sight" especially.

It amuses Merlin to think if he were a woman that there might be hope of marriage into the noble house of Cornwall. The young man's gaze is caught by two young, lovely blond women engaged in conversation as they walk. They are Helfina whose hair is a rich, ruddy gold and the taller, white-blond Camille. Merlin quite likes Helfina, who has been nothing but helpful and kind to both him and Freya. As for Camille, she's polite enough, but the woman is beyond circumspect, being downright inscrutable. They approach and Camille smiles and says, "Merlin, I've seen so little of you since we arrived in Camelot. You've been inquiring about the late king, I suppose."

"Is that what you've been doing?" Merlin asks.

"That's what we've all been doing," interjects Helfina. "I really must be on my way to deliver this fever draught to the Lady Ygraine," are her parting words as she takes her leave.

As Merlin watches the maids retreating back, Camille regards him. He notices and asks, "Is there something amiss about my appearance?"

Camille smiles, "No, not at all. Merlin, have you heard any rumors of sorcery in regard to the king's death?"

"Yes, a few but it seems that there are always rumors of sorcery running through Camelot?"

"Is that what Alan says?'" Camille continues, "He seems to be a well known source of gossip in Camelot."

"Have you spoken to him?"

"I've spoken more to Sir Bedivere and Sir Kay. Did you know that the Princess Guinevere and her retinue were here on a state visit when Uther Pendragon died?"

"No, I didn't," Merlin replies. "How exactly would that tie into magic?"

"It wouldn't, at least not in regard to Guinevere." Camille sighs. "It would seem the princess and King Uther shared a similar dim view of the practice of magic. It was a contributing factor in the king's choice of the Princess Guinevere over the Princess Mithian of Nemeth to be betrothed to the then Prince Arthur. Nemeth would have been a more valuable alliance than Cameliard. But . . . King Leodegrance, his daughter Guinevere, and her brother Elyan all share a dim view of magic."

"Camille, do you know who was in Princess Guinevere's escort?"

"Her brother, a small company of knights, her ladies-in-waiting . . ."

"So both Elyan and Guinevere were here when King Uther died?"

"Yes."

"A possibility, but we still have nothing. Maybe magic wasn't involved, but maybe magic can help us solve the mystery," Merlin wonders.

"Merlin," Camille places her hand on Merlin's arm. "Magic exists all around us. It is neither good nor evil in and of itself; however, it is to be respected. There is a balance. No spell is done without cost, they is always a stress on the spell caster. Magic does not serve us, we serve it. It must not be used indiscriminately. Please, Merlin, please head my words."

At this she abruptly turned and glided off like a swan drifting across a lake. The admiring gazes of men of all classes follow her. What a strange woman Merlin thought, beautiful though. Not his type, Merlin wondered if Camille were anyone's type. She may be as fair the blackthorn tree, with her hair like its creamy white blossoms, and eyes like its sloe plums, but she was far to odd. Besides there was Freya, small, sweet, wonderfully pretty Freya.

Freya. She led to another question. Why was she being pursued by the knights of Camelot?

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	12. Chapter 12

**Authors' Note: As far as I know, this is the last chapter that was written for this story on FanForum, if there are any others that I happen to not have, please let me know and get the chapter(s) to me so I can add them :).**

 **Disclaimer: We don't own Merlin or any external references relating to the Arthurian Legends or otherwise.**

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"You're sure?" Estella asks as Merlin finishes voicing his suspicions.

The warlock nods slowly. "Yes, the knights are sly, but my eyes are quicker. They have been discreetly following Freya for a few days now."

Her eyes turn that steely gray of anger as the fury fire within seeps out. It intensifies as she sees a couple of knights following Freya as she brings out a new food dish from the kitchens. "Well... it seems I must have a talk with my _darling_ cousin about that. No one, but me can harass my entourage."

Merlin snickers slightly, "Of course."

"Are you mocking me?" she demands.

He stutters at first, but after composing himself he says, "Not at all, wouldn't dream, speak, or even think of doing so."

The woman snorts at his over assurance, he really may never adjust her brute humor, "Very well, Merlin. Go on now and play servant since that is what they want, while I play Lady." She smiles and they part ways from the dark corner that Estella had claimed since the dinner started.

At a casual pace, the daughter of Valeria weaves through the crowds of people gracefully, they all stare or at least turn to watch for a moment, but she disregards them as she observes the crowd, looking for a familiar face. One in particular so she can yell at him. However, the one that she is trying to avoid meets her eye across the hall and he seems to be smirking arrogantly at her. She almost sneers, but holds it in, knowing that the expression would only stem his ego and show his hold on her. Wait... hold? Since when did Gwaine have a hold on her? They barely know each other, sure she has had muddled visions of him - which is unusual because her visions are typically very clear - but that means nothing, just her mind stemming- oh for the Goddess' sake, Estella really must put aside these thoughts. Suddenly she realizes that the knight had come to stand beside her.

"A rather lavish spread for a simple dinner, isn't it?" he remarks as he surveys the crowds and the amounts of food strewn on the tables. When she does not respond he states, "You are looking particularly lovely tonight, you far surpass your beautiful cousin."

Estella smirks, "Why, Sir Knight, I did not know you have such feelings for, Arthur."

Gwaine is stunned for a moment by the comment, "I- I was speaking of Mor-"

"Oh, my cousin-sister, was it? Well there shouldn't be comparison there, because the two of us prefer to stand as equals," the playful gleam leaves her gray gaze, "Now, did Hefina forget to mention that I did not want your company?"

He actually laughs, which increases her irritation with him, "Oh, of course, dear Hefina does not forget such things. I simply choose to overlook them."

"Oh, how rude of you," she quips.

"Well, from my perspective it was more the fact that you say you don't _want_ me, but you do _need_ me," he declares with a wide grin on his face.

Estella almost laughs at the ridicule of the thought, "I think that you are overstating your importance."

"You could be right and you could be wrong," he then has a gleeful glint in his hazel eyes, "Why don't we test that?"

"What?"

He clarifies, "Our need for each other and our abilities to resist it. And by rejecting you thereby concede that I am correct."

Her nostrils flare, but she states flatly, "Fine, you can chase me and in return I'll chase you and we will see who will fall first." She gives him no time to speak again as she rushes toward where the king and Morgana are conversing. When they notice her coming, they attempt to greet her, but the older woman does not allow for that either, "I don't appreciate it."

Arthur is perplexed by the blunt, vague statement thrown at him, "To what are referring to?" he asks calmly.

"Your knights stalking my sorcerers," she answers coldly.

The king is surprised by this, he was and is not aware of such things going on, "Well... I-"

"Oh, I suppose you are going to claim that you did not know, which matters not, you are a king so you should be aware of the most important things if you can't do it for every little thing. And I warrant that the security of your guests here under the protection of a person of your family should not feel the least bit offended by such treatment." The raven-haired woman had planned on yelling, causing such a scene would demean Arthur, but it seems that her cold tone and steel eyes are doing enough to scare him into submission. "I care not what your knights suspect about Freya, but leave her be or your father will have no justice for his death."

The golden-haired man swallows, he would rather not have a dispute over such a matter. "I will declare their actions punishable if the knights ever do such a thing or the like ever again."

The only answer Estella gives is to curtly nod and strut away from the duo. Arthur sighs heavily as Morgana smiles sympathetically. "She is quite... a tempest, I am sorry."

"It is alright, family arguments is all, isn't it?" he says, trying to laugh it off.

"But I must say, I do agree with her. Whatever the knights and even you have against Freya, she is only here to offer her assistance, no more, no less," Morgana explains.

Arthur nods, "I understand that, but she was the Druid girl who escaped the city around the time of my father's death. I hope you can understand why my knights were stalking her during her time here. I assure you I knew not of such close following, I only asked them to watch _everyone_ in your entourage while throwing aside any former suspicions. For my people's safe state of mind, not because of our mistrust in you."

Morgana smiles once more, "For now, I trust you but I will hold you to those words. We care not to be watched, as long as we are not persecuted."

He offers a bright smile while complying her words.

 **...**

"I don't like it," Estella states while downing her wine.

"What, my Lady?" Freya questions as she stands beside the older woman.

The Le Fay answers, "The way Arthur is looking at Morgana, the obvious interest cannot be lost to anyone."

The dark-eyed girl smiles, "Is him having interest in your lovely cousin a problem?"

"He is betrothed, so yes it is," Estella emphasizes, "They may end up branding Morgana a seductress wench if Arthur breaks up his engagement to Princess Guinevere. Although, I would completely understand. Guinevere may be a princess, but her title is all that she has, not a great beauty or swordswoman or anything beyond being born royal. And no, if you are trying to tell me that I am biased, I am not. You cannot possibly think that any woman out there - princess or not - can compete with my cousin. And no, I don't count, you know that."

Freya laughs, "Yes, my Lady," but as she continues to watch Arthur looking at Morgana, she cannot help but think that the tableau is actually fitting. Morgana did have all the qualities and more of a glorious queen.

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